by Cora Seton
In forty days, Jericho would live in the next small building that stood half-constructed near the others. Dug into the side of a south-facing slope, soon its large front windows would reflect the blue Montana sky, but for now it looked as blank and empty as he felt.
It was hard to shake the feeling from his dreams—that some screw-ups could never be fixed. He should never have agreed to help Savannah watch those children, but he knew if he tried to back out of it, he’d lose ground. He wasn’t sure what to think about her reaction when he’d told her she didn’t need to work with him anymore.
She’d seemed pleased at his offer to free her from her morning work on the energy grid, but then she’d run from him instead of dancing the night away. He’d waited for her to return. He’d even entered the manor in search of her. But Savannah had stayed upstairs in her room and he’d instinctively known that to pursue her there would mean losing her for good.
What would happen today at Crescent Hall? Would she give him the silent treatment?
Would she give him another chance?
Would a bomb drop and blow them all to Kingdom Come—?
Jesus—where had that thought come from?
Jericho raked a hand through his hair. There were no bombs in Chance Creek. He wasn’t back in Yemen. The children he’d see today weren’t caught in an abandoned school, unable to get home, running out of food and water—
He drew in a deep breath of air and blew it out again. Nightmares were bad enough, but these daytime visions were worse. You couldn’t wake up out of them. All you could do was try to clear your mind, or work until you dropped. Sometimes he wished he could drink them away, but he’d long ago learned he had to keep a clear mind in this world. Once in a while he tied one on, but those occasions were few and far between.
Still, the thought of going to Crescent Hall today filled him with dread. How would he get through an afternoon surrounded by children without thinking of Yemen? Without thinking of Akram?
Bad things happened when he was in charge of kids. Despite every effort he made, he couldn’t keep them safe.
Which is why he needed to steer a wide berth around Crescent Hall. This wasn’t Yemen, but that didn’t mean anything.
Danger could come from any direction.
Disaster could strike at any moment.
Even right here in Chance Creek.
Jericho turned to look up at the manor. He could corner one of the other women and ask her to take his place—
But then he’d lose his chance to get Savannah alone.
Was it worth the risk?
Jericho sighed and made his way to the bunkhouse.
“Morning,” he mumbled when he reached the kitchen and found Walker there.
The big man grunted a greeting and poured himself a cup of coffee.
“Morning,” Kai Green said. Another of the men of Base Camp, Kai was past thirty, but looked like he’d be more at home surfing in California than cooking breakfast in Montana. Kai was one of Jericho’s crew and helped out rigging up their green energy system. He was also an amazing cook and a wizard at using ad hoc solar ovens to create gourmet, filling fare. He was as meticulous as Jericho about calculating energy use—and his cooking practices showed it. Jericho enjoyed his company, but even Kai’s cheerful greeting couldn’t dispel the worry that lingered in his mind.
“Those bison coming soon?” Jericho asked Walker, getting himself a cup of coffee. He figured he’d go put in a little work before Kai called them back for breakfast.
“Yep. Avery’s kind of spooked.” A smile curved the man’s lips.
“How’s her riding coming?” Jericho was grateful to clear his dark thoughts from his head. Avery was a city girl and she’d been pretty intimidated by the horses at first, too. Jericho knew Walker was teaching her, and he figured the Native American was enjoying the task. Sparks had flown between those two since the day they’d met, but Walker had some kind of prior engagement he refused to discuss with anyone—including Avery—and from what Jericho had gathered, Avery was running out of patience.
“Good.” Walker took another sip of coffee. “But she isn’t too happy about the idea of wrangling bison.”
“You think she’ll ask to be re-assigned?” Something was bothering Walker, and it wasn’t the bison.
The man shrugged. “Maybe.”
“You any closer to telling her about this other woman you’re supposed to get hitched to?”
Walker gave him a baleful glance, but Jericho didn’t back down. He was facing a forty-day deadline to marry; he figured that gave him the right to give Walker a hard time.
When Walker shrugged again, Jericho banged his cup down on the counter. “If you lose her, it’ll be your own damn fault, you know.” If Savannah wanted him as clearly as Avery wanted Walker, they’d be well on their way to getting hitched. He didn’t know what Walker was waiting for.
“Maybe so.” Walker drained his cup. “Breakfast in a half-hour?” he asked Kai.
“That’s about right.”
Walker left the kitchen. Jericho exchanged a look with Kai.
“What do you think his story is, really?” Kai asked him.
“I’m not sure.” When they were kids, Walker had kept his reservation life separate from his life in town. He was possessive about his history and his people, and since he’d been as closemouthed back then as he was as a grown man, Jericho didn’t know too much about the entanglements his friend might have taken on.
“I never heard that the Crow practice arranged marriages,” Kai said lightly.
“I don’t think it’s a cultural thing, if that’s what you mean. I think there’s something else going on here. Some promise or obligation.” Walker had always taken those seriously.
“Well, I hope he figures it out.”
“Me, too.”
“Hope you figure it out, too, dude. Time’s ticking away.” Kai tapped his wristwatch.
Jericho knew he was kidding, but it wasn’t funny. Too much rode on these marriages.
“I’m going to get to work.”
Kai nodded and bent back over the counter, where he was cracking several cartons of eggs for omelets.
Back out in the fresh August morning, Jericho tried to shake off the last vestiges of his dreams. He wasn’t a child anymore. Nor was this a war zone. He could watch a few babies and toddlers with Savannah’s help.
Nothing would go wrong.
Savannah hadn’t slept a wink last night and her anxiety kept growing the closer she and Jericho came to Crescent Hall, not because she was worried about her ability to babysit a number of young children, but because of the silence of the man sitting next to her in the truck. At first she’d worried her rushed escape the night before had hurt Jericho’s feelings, but soon she realized that with the camera crew in tow, he’d have been quiet no matter what.
He tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel each time they stopped, though, as if he needed an outlet for his excess energy.
Was he nervous?
Maybe.
Did he mean to try to propose to her today?
She hoped not, but she figured she’d have to keep on her toes to put him off during their time at Crescent Hall. She didn’t like the way he’d finagled things so that there wouldn’t be a camera crew present with them for most of it.
Jericho turned into the drive and they continued up to a large, proud, three-story, white clapboard house at the top of a rise of ground. Savannah had only been to Crescent Hall a couple of times for neighborly get-togethers, but she understood completely why all the Halls were in love with their home. It was a prime example of Gothic architecture, from its rounded corner tower to its large wraparound porch. The front door opened, and Regan came out to greet them. She held Hugh in her arms, and Savannah’s heart throbbed with the desire to take the precious little boy from her and snuggle him herself.
She turned to Jericho, took in his white knuckles, and her spirits sank further.
Was he nervous? Or a
ngry that he’d gotten roped into babysitting? Was she a fool to think a man who’d been a Navy SEAL would volunteer to stay home and raise their baby while she toured the country playing her music?
Regardless of whether he wanted to be a stay-at-home dad or not, Savannah didn’t think she could stand it if Jericho turned out to be one of those impatient men who found no child interesting until he was old enough to play sports.
Maybe she’d been thinking about this day all wrong. Maybe babysitting the Hall kids was the perfect way to test Jericho. She’d learn right away how he truly felt about children. Then she could decide what to do next. As soon as the truck stopped, she hopped out and went to take Hugh from Regan’s arms.
“I’ve missed you,” she told him, giving him a snuggle.
Hugh gave a happy coo.
“I think he missed you, too,” Regan said. She stepped out of the way as Heather Hall passed them on the porch with an infant-size car seat in her arms.
“Are you sure you want to watch all of the kids?” Heather asked. A cheerful blonde who ran the local hardware store, she had married Colt Hall after they’d been separated for years. Now they were raising their fourteen-year-old son, Richard, together. “We could take one or two along.”
“It’s no bother at all.” Savannah sent a sidelong look Jericho’s way to see his reaction. Was that fear gripping the tall, strong SEAL? That spelled trouble. While it amused her to think a few babies and toddlers could disconcert him, she’d known other men who were afraid they wouldn’t hold a baby right or would accidentally hurt a toddler. If that’s all this was, she could teach him what to do.
If he had an actual aversion to babies, it would be more difficult.
“Richard wants to come to the hospital, too,” Heather said. “Otherwise he could have helped babysit. He’s a whiz at it.”
“That’s just fine; of course he wants to be one of the grown-ups,” Savannah told her. “Like I said, we don’t mind one bit. It’s going to be fun, right, Jericho?”
“Uh…sure.” But the SEAL didn’t look so sure. Savannah’s spirits sagged some more.
“Go right on inside; I’ll be there in a minute. I want to help Heather.” Regan held the door open for Savannah. Savannah kissed the top of Hugh’s head and consoled herself that no one could remain aloof around a baby like him. She’d cure Jericho of any shyness he had in no time.
“You are a darling,” she said to the baby as she went inside and Jericho followed. “A darling, darling boy. Right, Jericho? Jericho?”
She turned to find Jericho hesitating in the doorway, the camera crew behind him. “Shut that door before one of the kids escapes,” she teased him.
There wasn’t a child in sight besides Hugh, but Jericho jumped into action as if a whole horde of them was racing for the opening. He yanked the crew inside and slammed the door shut.
“Jericho, relax! I was just kidding.” Savannah would have laughed if she wasn’t so surprised.
Why was he so nervous? Charles would have gotten the joke. Savannah shook her head at the wayward thought. The last thing she wanted to think about right now was Charles, even if he had liked to talk about kids. He wanted an heir and a spare, if you could belief the pompous indulgence of that. Just because he shared a name with a certain prince didn’t mean anyone besides himself—and her parents—cared about his bloodline.
His attitude toward children—as if they were some accessory that was de rigeur this year—had chafed her all during their engagement. She’d wanted children someday—but only after she’d proven herself. And only if her husband would love them as much as she would. She’d wanted to focus on each thing separately—first her career, then parenthood—because she’d known when she chose to be a mother, she’d be the kind who made her child the center of her life. She couldn’t do that and be a concert pianist at the same time. Now Fate had played a trick on her. It had taken away her chance to separate her career from motherhood. Savannah glanced at Jericho again, nearly succumbing to the uncertainty that had plagued her since she’d found out she was pregnant. He was supposed to be the answer. If he would step up and help while she was traveling and practicing long hours, she could still do both things to her high standards.
Although neither in the way she’d hoped.
Savannah tried not to think about that, but it was true. She knew she’d miss her baby during her long hours of practice and time on the road.
Sometimes—sometimes she wondered if she was making the right choice.
Of course she was, she told herself. She was doing this as much for her child as she was for herself. She couldn’t pass this kind of self-doubt and resentment onto another generation. Only when she was a national success could she relax and take things more slowly.
But when Hugh rested his head on her shoulder with a contented baby sigh, her heart squeezed again, and she longed to hold the child growing even now inside her.
She was grateful when Regan re-entered the house. She took Hugh from Savannah and led the way toward the living room, chattering as she went. “Everyone’s been fed and should be fine until we’re home again, but there are lots of snacks in the cupboard and fridge and I’ve written down everyone’s preferences. There are bottles of breast milk in the fridge, too; those have been labeled.”
They entered the large living room off the kitchen, and Savannah had to smile despite the thoughts careening around her brain. Controlled chaos was the only way to describe the scene. The furniture had been pushed to the edges of the room. Small toys were scattered everywhere, and larger ones were grouped in stations, as if the living room was a preschool. There was a play kitchen, a play workbench, a dress up area and a corner with every type of block imaginable.
“As you can see, there’s plenty for the kids to do,” Regan continued. “All they’ll want is for you to play with them.” She began to introduce the kids, who barely looked up to greet the newcomers, they were all so busy. “We have to keep Annie and Wyatt apart for now.” She indicated a toddler girl and a baby boy. “Annie is biting these days, and she has it out for Wyatt. So we put one in a playpen with lots to do, and let one roam around, then switch them.”
“I love the way you’ve got it all worked out,” Savannah said. “It’ll be so nice for all the kids to grow up together.”
“I think so,” Regan said with a smile. “Although sometimes it’s a little crazy around here. Okay, all our cell phone numbers are on the fridge in the kitchen. So are the emergency services.”
“We’ll be fine,” Savannah assured her again.
She and Jericho spent the next half-hour posing with babies, with each other, and being filmed at play with the youngsters, with various members of the Hall clan participating so that their children weren’t frightened by the cameras. Mason and Regan proudly showed off their son, Aaron, along with baby Hugh, and Ella and Austin’s older son, Michael. Storm and Zane played with their toddler, Gabriel, and twin babies, Wyatt and Sean. Heather and Colt posed with their twin toddlers, Nellie and Andrew, and their baby, Laurie. And Dan Hemmins and his wife, Sarah, friends of Mason’s who’d settled down at Crescent Hall, too, showed off their daughter, Annie. When the crew finally headed out to get a ride back to Westfield with the Halls, Savannah sighed with relief. The kids were getting restless from all the attention. Time for a little peace and quiet.
“Are you sure you have everything you need?” Regan asked again as the Halls headed for the door.
“Positive. Go on. Ella’s waiting.”
“I’m so excited she’s coming home,” Regan confessed. “Thank you for doing this. Thank you, too, Jericho.”
“Sure.” Jericho nodded but kept his gaze low, watching all the kids. Savannah thought he was counting them. “Ten,” he said suddenly, confirming her guess. “There are ten of them, right? We need to be able to do a head count.”
“That’s right.” Regan was already half out the door. “See you in a couple of hours.”
“Bye,” Savannah called
after her. “Jericho—what are you doing?” she asked when the man sprang into motion and began to move the furniture and larger toys to block the wide entrance from the kitchen into the living room.
“Securing the perimeter.”
“But—”
The toddlers and infants had all stopped to stare, as surprised by this turn of events as Savannah was.
“Grab that one.” Jericho pointed to a large plastic refrigerator and Savannah went to move it into the position he indicated. It wasn’t a bad idea, all things considered, she supposed. It would be easier if they could corral all the kids in a single room. She wondered why there wasn’t a baby gate, but with so many people living under one roof, maybe one wasn’t necessary when the Halls were at home.
His barricade in place, Jericho looked around. “I only see two playpens.”
“How many do you need?” Savannah’s smile slid when she caught a look at the worry on his face.
“There are four babies who can’t walk. Why aren’t there four playpens?”
“They don’t need to be in them all at once. Annie here is the only one who bites, remember?” She patted the head of the cherubic little girl in a blue dress and striped stockings.
“The other kids could step on them.” Jericho lurched suddenly across the room and scooped up Laurie.
Savannah’s breath whooshed out of her lungs at the sheer beauty of a baby in the Navy SEAL’s arms. Jericho’s long, strong fingers made the tiny child look even tinier, and the little girl gazed at him like he was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen.
Savannah understood exactly how she felt.
She could stare at Jericho all day, especially when he was standing like that, cradling a baby girl as if he meant to keep her safe at all costs.
Would he be like that with his wife, too? Protective? Caring?
Or would he be like Charles—all charm and no substance?
Jericho took another step and scooped up Hugh, whom Regan had placed near the play kitchen, as a toddler careened by carrying an armload of blocks. “This is crazy. There are too many of them.” He transferred both babies to the same arm and picked up Sean.